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The Maori Race

Chapter XIV. Marriage, Etc

page 284

Chapter XIV. Marriage, Etc.

Among the Maoris early marriages were not the rule, the men especially often reached mature age before they took wives. This perhaps had much to do with the hardiness of the ancient Maori stock, the marriage of immature and half-grown young people being discouraged. Very considerable freedom was allowed to a young girl before marriage, taken full advantage of probably so far as flirtation and love-making were concerned, for girls had reputation as belles and as having crowds of admirers just as amongst ourselves. There was, however, a social public opinion in a native village which could check any approach to licentiousness in the old pre-European days, and, though no doubt there were plenty of offences against what we should consider propriety, personal modesty and individual pride made degrees of strictness here as elsewhere. It was chiefly among the lower-class girls that questionable conduct was permitted, the daughters of a chief were surrounded by many restrictions, doubtless as irksome or more so page 285 than rules of social etiquette are found to be by some among ourselves. Such a young lady would be constantly surrounded with girl-attendants and duennas, she would be probably betrothed at an early age to some powerful chief and therefore bound to show great circumspection in her daily life. This rule extended to boys also, who under similar circumstances had boy-attendants surrounding them; it was a branch of the tapu system and had to be carefully observed. Children were often thus betrothed at birth, if indeed a private understanding had not been arrived at before the child was born. The birth of a girl would almost certainly bring forth a proposal of future marriage from the father or uncle of a baby boy. The breaking of a betrothal made in infancy was always regard as an insult and had to be avenged.1 Even when there was no betrothal the daughter of a great chief had to exhibit much discretion and put up with constant surveillance and attendance.

It is a proof of the high esteem and respect in which the Maoris held their women that the right of showing preference in love affairs was reserved for the girl. In almost every case the first advances were made by the woman, either directly or through one of her friends; a custom that of course had as its result unpleasant consequences of shame and irritation if such advances were rejected or neglected. Very quaintly is this custom noted in some of the old legends. One of these relates that on the arrival of a certain young noble at a village he was first seen by the younger daughter of the page 286 resident chief and the girl said at once, “I will have that man for my husband.” Her elder sister objected and claimed their guest by the right of senior birth, but on the two quarrelling over the matter their father interfered and decided by saying, “O my elder daughter! let your younger sister have the stranger-chief as husband; she saw him first.” The elder girl obeyed, but was so angry that she left her home and tribe, and remained among strangers. Another legend relates that two girls were wandering through the forest and saw a handsome young man up in a tree spearing birds. The younger said, “There is my husband!” The elder said, “My husband,” and the two disputed. He accompanied them to their village, and the younger girl was successful on this occasion also, not because she claimed that she had seen the young man first, but because she was very pretty, and winning the stranger's heart married him privately before the elder sister could reach her father to urge her claim.2 If the proposal sent by a high-born girl to a man she greatly desired was rejected tragical consequences often followed, even the suicide of a forlorn damsel being recorded in such case.3

There were three kinds of courtship, the annual or parliamentary form, arrangement between relatives, and free choice. In the annual affair the proceedings were as follows. There would be a solemn gathering in the House of Amusement (Whare-matoro) with all the guests specially dressed and ornamented for the occasion. The old ladies each wore a page 287 half-calabash to fit the head, and fastened inside this all round was the hair of the native dog, so that it hung down like a wig. The youngsters were in their best mats and with feathers in their hair; the girls had their faces spotted with red ochre and blue colour applied with the glutinous bud of the veronica (koromiko). At these assemblies (atahu) the elderly people were not supposed to speak except on extraordinary occasions. An old chief would get up and say, “My children, this a time for you, not for the seniors—speak, children.” Then a young man would rise and say, “I am going to have so and so.” Silence on the girl's part implied consent. If the girl named disliked the speaker she would stand up and object by saying, “You have long finger-nails” (i.e., not worn down by hard work in the cultivation, lazy) or some such speech. This would shame the young man, but he had to submit in proud silence. Then a girl would get up and say, “I shall have the son of So and So.” If the young man agreed he was silent; if he dissented he would not reply sharply or roughly but say gently, “I have no power; my singing-bird is So and So.” Another man would get up and say, “I intend to have the daughter of So and So.” To which perhaps an old chieftainess or woman of influence might rise and say, “So and So still sleeps, he still sleeps.” This meant that formerly, a long time ago, the named warrior had fallen unavenged, and was a strong hint that the man making the proposal was unworthy. If nothing was said, a slight cough, a sign of applause, would run round the page 288 sitting circle and ratify the engagement. If there was no reason against the arrangement the marriage would take place next day or in a few days, and with, perhaps, the recital of the wedding incantation (karakia atahu) the matter was at an end. This is of course to be understood only as relating to those of no important position in the tribe; freedom of choice could hardly be allowed in cases where tribal alliances might be cemented, or powerful families conciliated.

Where freedom of choice was exerted among young men and girls of high birth the result was generally a romance, such as the well-known love episode of Hine-moa and Tutanekai or that of Ponga and Puhi-huia. The names of the latter mentioned lovers are themselves romantic, for the man's, Ponga, means the graceful “Tree-fern,” while that of his sweetheart is, metaphorically, “Head-dress of jewels.” The story is the more interesting because the wooing and declaration were performed by the man. The lovers were members of tribes often at war, but on the occasion of some peace festivities met at Mount Eden (Maunga Whau) Auckland. The young people took a great fancy to each other, but her station in life was superior to his, and they did not dare to openly express their feelings, as many of the man's seniors were present and were Puhi-huia's suitors, for she was a famous beauty. At last the youth hit on the stratagem of calling loudly to his slave for water in the night, the slave being instructed to pretend absence or deafness. The girl's page 289 father heard Ponga calling without effect, so said to his daughter, “Arise and get water for our guest.” The maid arose, and, though dreadfully frightened of the darkness and the spirits that move in darkness, took the calabash and went to the spring. Ponga also rose, feigning anger and saying, “Let me find that deaf slave and his soul shall travel on the path to the realms of the dead.” He followed the track the girl had taken, for he heard her singing to keep her heart brave and prevent the evil ones touching her. As she stooped to dip the water her lover stood at her side. She said, “Why did you come? I was going to bring water for you.” He answered, “You are the water I am thirsty for.” They then talked as lovers will till it was time to return to the pa, which they did singly, lest people should suspect their meeting. Puhi - huia's mother said, “How long you have been! Ponga must be dead with thirst. Take our guest the water.” The girl did so, and Ponga drank, not from the cup, lest he should make it tapu, for he was a chief of rank, but he placed his hand cup-fashion below his lips and the maiden poured the water for him. After this the lovers eloped, pursued by angry kinsmen, but our “Young Lochinvar” bore off his bride in safety. The story of their flight and its result is one of the purest and sweetest tales ever told, though far too long to be repeated here.4

Another story relates how a pa at Taranaki was surrounded by enemies who were blockading it in the attempt to make their page 290 enemies yield through thirst, for there was no water in the fort and many of the besieged were nearly dying. The old chief of the pa had a beautiful daughter named Raumahora (“Drooping Leaf”) and her fame had reached the ears of Takarangi, a young noble in the attacking army, whose thoughts were continually on the maiden and what she must be suffering. The old warrior who commanded in the fort stood on the top of the defences and said, “Pray, send me some water,” doubtless hoping that he had some distant relatives among the besiegers who would by the courtesies of war be allowed to carry some water to him. One filled a calabash for the old man, but it was knocked out of the kind hands by those of a harder-hearted comrade. Then Takarangi, arrayed in all his war-finery, went forward, thinking sorrowfully, “That dying old man is lovely Rau-mahora's father; alas, that she should die too!” The elder man cried out, “Is there no warrior among you with influence enough to dare to do what others forbid?” and Takarangi answered, “What dog dares to bite this arm of mine?” The tumult of anger grew calm as the young man glared around on his friends and followers, so, taking a calabash of water, Takarangi fearlessly mounted the hill and entered the fort, saying to its chief, “Lo, here is water for you and the young girl.” Then he and the girl looked at each other tenderly and long. and he went over and seated himself by her side. The warriors said, “The lord Takarangi is a lover of war, but he loves Rau-mahora as page 291 well.” The father saw the glances interchanged and said to his daughter, “Would you be pleased to have this chief for your husband?” and the maiden answered, “That thought is mine also.” So they became betrothed and the clouds of war melted away. The army of Takarangi came back no more, for the “greenstone door” of perpetual peace was set up between those tribes.

If a young man was so bold as to become an active suitor, he would by stolen and expressive glances try to tell Love's tale. If he thought he had encouragement, he would perhaps after some months of waiting manage to get close enough to his inamorata to give her a loving pinch. If she took the nip quietly all was well, but if she called out, “Oh, so and so has pinched me”—then there was trouble indeed and a chorus of angry voices of relatives.

“Love-letters” or the substitute for them were sent or dropped to each other by enamoured persons. The messages took the form of a knotted cord, consent being shown by untying the small knots. Another way was to drop or throw a loose slip-knot of flax, and if the person receiving it viewed the summons favourably the noose was pulled into a tight knot and returned, if the reverse the noose was unfastened and the straight cord dropped to the ground. A girl would seldom accept an untattooed man; to have a smooth unmarked face (mokau) was to have enormous odds against one in love - making. Sometimes a girl would test her lover's pluck by running page 292 into all sorts of dangerous and forbidden places, even into a priest's house, to see if her suitor dared to follow. This was the solitary instance (a very graceful concession) in which the awful laws of tapu might be broken. Even if Corydon pursued his Phyllis into a temple or into the burial-ground or place (wahitapu) where remains of chiefs' food were thrown, the punishment of infringing tapu never fell on the bold lover. Of course among a people so saturated with fear of that dread institution the tapu and of the avenging power of easily-insulted gods, it needed a great deal of moral courage to do what would be to a European equivalent to getting up and dancing on the altar of a church. In fact there is no conception of sacrilege quite so overwhelming to one of us as the idea of wilfully breaking tapu would be to a Maori of olden times.

A characteristic story of the native way of regarding insult and at the same time of authority in regard to marriage is contained in the following anecdote. A chief named Papakura had a fair daughter, Komene, who was wooed by a young man of exalted birth and fine appearance but who had been made a prisoner of war and therefore a slave. The young man thought that his services to the tribe had wiped out his misfortune, and, having fallen helplessly in love, sent message after message by tokens to the girl. These tokens, however, missed their proper destination and fell into the father's hands. He, with grim humour, ordered a small stage to be erected on which cooked food was placed, and then as page 293 the love-messages arrived they were one by one placed on the top of the cooked food. This action, conveying an insult the depth of which only a native could really appreciate, meant that the sender of the tokens was a slave, “a remnant left from the feast.”

There was no marriage ceremony among the inferior classes; marriage was merely alluded to as a “dwelling-together,” or “a sleeping-together.” It was customary, if the marriage had not been arranged at the annual meeting, for a girl intending matrimony to call an assembly of her friends the night before her marriage, and, standing up, proclaim to them, “I am going to take a husband. So and So is his name.” This was sufficient for the purpose.

Although in the middle ranks of life and in cases of regular betrothal parents arranged the matter when the parties concerned were young, yet when engagements were entered into at a more adult age the parents' consent was not so important as that of the bride's brothers and uncles. This was on account of land-transfer complications. An ancient and favourite way of marriage was to get up a war-party (or mimic war-party) and carry off the bride by force. There were so many relatives to be consulted, some of whom would be sure to feel aggrieved if their consent was not obtained, that abduction was easiest. There was often feigned abduction and feigned defence, but it was at times very hard on the girl. After a girl's relatives had consented and the match was arranged a suitor might appear, and, angry page 294 with the now-completed disposition of affairs, endeavour to carry off the bride. Arms were often resorted to, and the unfortunate maiden would be severely mauled by the efforts of her abductors to take her away and of her friends to retain her. Not infrequently the death of the unfortunate girl has ensued from this pulling-match.

Elopement sometimes took place when a young couple, who despaired of getting the multitudinous consents of relatives, or over-coming the other obstacles to a formal marriage, would slip off together to some lonely spot in the forest or mountains, to set up a little home together for a few months till rancour died away, and they could find friendly messengers who would arrange for their safe return as married people. Perhaps some similar idea originated the custom of the “honeymoon” among our own people.

Whether the man had eloped with his wife or carried her off by force with the help of his comrades, he was sure to have a “plundering visit” (muru) from his friends before he was allowed to settle down. But this surprise-party was generally arranged for and a feast got ready for the entertainment of the visitors, who would depart laden with presents. It was the reverse of the European custom where the bride receives the presents. At ceremonial marriages presents of food, mats, etc., changed hands, but they were made by the parents of the bride to the parents of the bridegroom and vice versa; the bridegroom and bride received no presents.

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An aristocratic marriage was accompanied by a great feast. As a general rule the house for the new couple was erected by the father of the bridegroom if the bride was to leave her own people to go to those of her intended husband. If, however, a chief had only high fighting-rank (not territory) and came to live with his wife, the bride's relatives built the new house for them. The relatives generally determined when the bridal feast was to take place, and in the meantime mats were woven, food collected, etc. At the wedding feast (umu-kotore) the bride appeared clothed in new mats and accompanied by her brothers and uncles. The priests uttered charms and incantations, particularly the spells called “nestling” (ohaoha) and “cleaving together” (whaka-piri) over the married couple, followed by long recitals of genealogies of both bride and bridegroom, and when the couple had been led to their new house the proceedings terminated. A curious little superstition was current which prevented the bride's sisters from attending the marriage-feast, as it was believed that if they did so they would either be childless after marriage or die old maids, fates they considered undesirable. Some women, however, were “old maids of honour” for they lived alone with retainers and servants because there was no one of birth sufficiently lofty to mate with them in marriage.

In regard to marriage there was sometimes modesty and self distrust even among the fierce and overbearing warriors of the Maori. It is said that one chief when suing for peace page 296 sent his young and pretty sister as a peace-offering to the victor. The recipient of this favour felt doubtful whether he could ever win the affection of the fair damsel and when he went to consult his mirror (a pool of still water) he was even more discouraged, and concluded that, however renowned for courage and success in battle, he was too ill-favoured ever to win a lady's fancy. So he said to his handsomer younger brother, “Take the girl for your wife and let peace be established.” This was done.

A man of noble birth or position was allowed to take more than one wife, and generally his principal wife, at least, was a high-born woman. Whatever their rank they were generally well treated and were held in high respect. Sometimes all the three or four wives were of exalted birth, and to a chief thus honoured marriage became a means whereby his influence could be greatly augmented. Each wife would bring her retinue, her slaves and other property to add to the resources of the household and enable her husband to exercise that princely hospitality which beseemed the position of a man of aristocratic rank. The wives did not always live together in the husband's house. They (or any one of them) might prefer to live on their own lands and manage them, being visited by the husband at certain times. If they dwelt together they seldom quarrelled among themselves; the status of each was fixed by custom and this was seldom departed from, although if a new wife was suddenly brought home there was a flutter in the dovecote. They had little jealousy of each other; page 297 each had her own cultivation to look after and polygamy seemed perfectly natural in a society where the men were killed off in the constant fighting and divorce was easy. Old and sickly wives have been known to urge the husband to bring home a younger woman as wife, to share the work and ensure numerous offspring, for they believed barrenness to be always the woman's fault. The rule, too, that a brother should take his deceased brother's wife or wives and slaves sometimes swelled the number of the household to a great extent. Nevertheless there was hardly ever more than six wives in a household. There were often women slaves or servants about the house and they not only performed the menial work but were supposed to be sexually at the master's disposal.

Divorce was not infrequent but it was not dependent always upon the wish of the two people most concerned. Sometimes the woman's relations removed her from the house of a man they disliked or wished to annoy. In other cases the husband would discard his wife and go off to another place where he would marry again; or some speech of the husband would be considered by the wife as insulting to her relatives and she would leave him and return to her own people. There was no regular ceremonial, but a charm to be uttered as a divorce-spell was known.5 To ensure his wife remaining true to him or not being abducted by relatives, a man on going away repeated an incantation that compelled faithfulness and chastity in his spouse and cursed any man interfering with her.

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The “table of affinities” in marriage was respected by Maoris, with whom incest was almost unknown and reckoned sinful. There is one mention of polyandry in a very ancient legend, viz, when Hina, the sister of Maui, became the wife of the two brothers Ihu-atamai and Ihu-wareware. Instances of a brother and sister living together as man and wife were extremely rare, and generally arose from the desire to keep lands belonging to the woman in the same line as that of the man. It only happened when the man's wife failed to give him issue and his sister would come as an extra wife. It was generally not a sister by both sides, not a daughter of the same father and mother, but a half-sister, or first cousin. A more frequent circumstance was for a man to marry two sisters.

It was a point of hospitality that when a strange chief of high rank paid a visit his entertainer should send a temporary wife or wives to his guests; generally his own daughter as a special honour. It was accounted a great insult for the guest to refuse their attentions and any young lady declining to render the courtesy was considered ill-bred and boorish. There is an amusing custom (to-pae-pae) spoken of in connection with this usage. If when a girl was sent to the guest's house she refused to speak to him or entertain him in any way the vexed visitor would fasten a log of wood to a rope and draw it along to the corners of the square (marae) in the centre of the village. At each corner he would call the log by the name of the annoying girl and flog the page 299 log with a branch or lash prepared for the purpose. This answered to our “burning in effigy” and was intended to bring shame on the lady who had been guilty of such a breach of hospitality.